“But so often, “creating drama” is a phrase that people use when they want someone who has been a victim of something to shut up. It allows them to blame the victim for bringing the problem to their attention and making them feel bad while glossing over the fact that the drama was really created by the victimizER back when they did bad things. The friend group gets all caught up in issues of “fairness” and “logic” and “It was so long ago, why are you dredging it all up now?” and treating the victim’s feelings (or, again, quite rational & reasonable request to not have to sit next to one’s rapist at dinner) as illogical and unreasonable.
I’m sure somebody must have put this on tumblr already, but I haven’t seen it anywhere, so here.
1. Parks had been thrown off the bus a decade earlier by the same bus driver — for refusing to pay in the front and go around to the back to board. She had avoided that driver’s bus for twelve years because she knew well the risks of angering drivers, all of whom were white and carried guns. Her own mother had been threatened with physical violence by a bus driver, in front of Parks who was a child at the time. Parks’ neighbor had been killed for his bus stand, and teenage protester Claudette Colvin, among others, had recently been badly manhandled by the police.
2. Parks was a lifelong believer in self-defense. Malcolm X was her personal hero. Her family kept a gun in the house, including during the boycott, because of the daily terror of white violence. As a child, when pushed by a white boy, she pushed back. His mother threatened to kill her, but Parks stood her ground. Another time, she held a brick up to a white bully, daring him to follow through on his threat to hit her. He went away. When the Klu Klux Klan went on rampages through her childhood town, Pine Level, Ala., her grandfather would sit on the porch all night with his rifle. Rosa stayed awake some nights, keeping vigil with him.
3. Her husband was her political partner. Parks said Raymond was “the first real activist I ever met.” Initially she wasn’t romantically interested because Raymond was more light-skinned than she preferred, but she became impressed with his boldness and “that he refused to be intimidated by white people.” When they met he was working to free the nine Scottsboro boys and she joined these efforts after they were married. At Raymond’s urging, Parks, who had to drop out in the eleventh grade to care for her sick grandmother, returned to high school and got her diploma. Raymond’s input was crucial to Parks’ political development and their partnership sustained her political work over many decades.
4. Many of Parks’ ancestors were Native Americans (Cherokee-Creek). She noted this to a friend who was surprised when in private Parks removed her hairpins and revealed thick braids of wavy hair that fell below her waist. Her husband, she said, liked her hair long and she kept it that way for many years after his death, although she never wore it down in public. Aware of the racial politics of hair and appearance, she tucked it away in a series of braids and buns — maintaining a clear division between her public presentation and private person.
5. Parks’ arrest had grave consequences for her family’s health and economic well-being. After her arrest, Parks was continually threatened, such that her mother talked for hours on the phone to keep the line busy from constant death threats. Parks and her husband lost their jobs after her stand and didn’t find full employment for nearly ten years. Even as she made fundraising appearances across the country, Parks and her family were at times nearly destitute. She developed painful stomach ulcers and a heart condition, and suffered from chronic insomnia. Raymond, unnerved by the relentless harassment and death threats, began drinking heavily and suffered two nervous breakdowns. The black press, culminating in JET magazine’s July 1960 story on “the bus boycott’s forgotten woman,” exposed the depth of Parks’ financial need, leading civil rights groups to finally provide some assistance.
6. Parks spent more than half of her life in the North. The Parks family had to leave Montgomery eight months after the boycott ended. She lived for most of that time in Detroit in the heart of the ghetto, just a mile from the epicenter of the 1967 Detroit riot. There, she spent nearly five decades organizing and protesting racial inequality in “the promised land that wasn’t.”
7. In 1965 Parks got her first paid political position, after over two decades of political work. After volunteering for Congressman John Conyers’s long shot political campaign,
Parks helped secure his primary victory by convincing Martin Luther King, Jr. to come to Detroit on Conyers’s behalf. He later hired her to work with constituents as an administrative assistant in his Detroit office. For the first time since her bus stand, Parks finally had a salary, access to health insurance, and a pension — and the restoration of dignity that a formal paid position allowed.
8. Parks was far more radical than has been understood. She worked alongside the Black Power movement, particularly around issues such as reparations, black history, anti-police brutality, freedom for black political prisoners, independent black political power, and economic justice. She attended the Black Political Convention in Gary and the Black Power conference in Philadelphia. She journeyed to Lowndes County, Alabama to support the movement there, spoke at the Poor People’s Campaign, helped organize support committees on behalf of black political prisoners such as the Wilmington 10 and Imari Obadele of the Republic of New Africa, and paid a visit of support to the Black Panther school in Oakland, CA.
9. Parks was an internationalist. She was an early opponent of the Vietnam War in the early 1960s, a member of The Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom, and a supporter of the Winter Soldier hearings in Detroit and the Jeannette Rankin Brigade protest in D.C. In the 1980s, she protested apartheid and U.S. complicity, joining a picket outside the South African embassy and opposed U.S. policy in Central America. Eight days after 9/11, she joined other activists in a letter calling on the United States to work with the international community and no retaliation or war.
10. Parks was a lifelong activist and a hero to many, including Nelson Mandela. After his release from prison, he told her, “You sustained me while I was in prison all those years.”
Also, some gems from the comments:
Mrs.Parks was the CEO of the Rosa & Raymond Institute for Self Development she wanted to build a educational building for children, she wanted a campus, she had a dream to educate children all over the world. This is why she left all of her intellectual property, her images, and assets to the Institute, to continue her legacy. Mrs. Parks said these words in one of the 4 books that she wrote about her life. The book is a children’s book called, “Dear Mrs. Parks” children from all over the world, send her thousands of letters to the Institute, everyday asking her questions about her life,one question,She answered, and I quote, ” Many young people ask me about how a person’s legacy can affect future generations. A legacy is something that is handed down to future generations. My grandmother, mother, and grandfather all nurtured me. They taught me hope and kindness and gave me a sense of inner strength. They gave me a beautiful legacy to understand that we all count.” These are Mrs. Parks own words, check out her books, and you will know who the real Rosa Louise Parks is. I spend 15 years serving Mrs. Parks and I thank God every day, because she carried the children and me on a spiritual journey.
Also never mentioned is the fact that, for many years, Mrs. Parks was an investigator for the NAACP of white men raping Black women. She documented 112 cases; one of which occured on Sept. 3, 1944, when seven Abbeville, Alabama white males abducted and gang-raped Recy Taylor at gunpoint. Ms. Taylor’s horrorific encounter only captured national news in 2011.
Rosa Parks deserves better. She deserves to be known fully, not coopted and reduced to be a “safe” part of the version of history we get taught in school.
Rosa Parks is was a fascinating woman and a tremendous historical figure but…it seems pretty obvious that she didn’t “end racism” by the compiling of this information alone.
It’s astonishing that a we learned about her in high school was that she refused to give up a bus seat
Because god forbid if you don’t respond the way the catcallers want you to, it is entirely possible that they will
resort to screaming at you and calling you derogatory slurs
follow you (likely while screaming at you and calling you derogatory slurs)
grab you, or otherwise physically assault you
And no, this isn’t something that just happens every now and then. They aren’t isolated incidents. I have NEVER been able to ignore catcalls and/or turn down a man’s advances without him doing any of the three things listed above. Ever. EVER.
I mean obviously there are some women who have been lucky enough to never have to deal with anything like this.
But it happens, and it happens on the regular.
So y’all need to cut that shit out about “just ignore them.”
Listen up, ye denizens of the YA world! We’re about to spice up your Monday with TWO singular covers and TWO exquisite ARCs. The common denominator….is you. #badjokes #reallybadjokes #jokesyouwillgetinasecond
The Fourteenery proudly presents THE CHANCE YOU WON’T RETURN by Annie Cardi and FAR FROM YOU by Tess Sharpe.
I know you’re dying to learn what these are all about. And I’m going to tell you….
THE CHANCE YOU WON’T RETURN, by Annie Cardi
When your mom thinks she’s Amelia Earhart, navigating high school, first love, and family secrets is like flying solo without a map.
Driver’s ed and a first crush should be what Alex Winchester is stressed out about in high school — and she is. But what’s really on her mind is her mother. Why is she dressing in Dad’s baggy khaki pants with a silk scarf around her neck? What is she planning when she pores over maps in the middle of the night? When did she stop being Mom and start being Amelia Earhart? Alex tries to keep her budding love life apart from the growing disaster at home as her mother sinks further into her delusions. But there are those nights, when everyone else is asleep, when it’s easier to confide in Amelia than it ever was to Mom. Now, as Amelia’s flight plans become more intense, Alex is increasingly worried that Amelia is planning her final flight — the flight from which she never returns. What could possibly be driving Mom’s delusions, and how far will they take her?
FAR FROM YOU, by Tess Sharpe
Sophie Winters nearly died. Twice.
The first time, she’s fourteen, and escapes a near-fatal car accident with scars, a bum leg, and an addiction to Oxy that’ll take years to kick.
The second time, she’s seventeen, and it’s no accident. Sophie and her best friend Mina are confronted by a masked man in the woods. Sophie survives, but Mina is not so lucky. When the cops deem Mina’s murder a drug deal gone wrong, casting partial blame on Sophie, no one will believe the truth: Sophie has been clean for months, and it was Mina who led her into the woods that night for a meeting shrouded in mystery.
After a forced stint in rehab, Sophie returns home to a chilly new reality. Mina’s brother won’t speak to her, her parents fear she’ll relapse, old friends have become enemies, and Sophie has to learn how to live without her other half. To make matters worse, no one is looking in the right places and Sophie must search for Mina’s murderer on her own. But with every step, Sophie comes closer to revealing all: about herself, about Mina and about the secret they shared.
Okay, back to business!
These books share more than witty authors, covers with creative uses of light, and titles about ‘you,’ they are also replete with heart, hardship, and heroism. (And other words that start with ‘h’ like hairplanes and hkissing and hmurder). These are books that will gut you in the best-worst ways and the Ladies of the Fourteenery are thrilled to share them with you.
Winning is simple. All you have to do is reblog this post. Reblogs, and only reblogs, will count as an entry. Likes are appreciated but will not be counted as entries
Winners (for there will be one for each) will be posted Friday, December 13th at noon CST. Ready, set, REBLOG!
EDIT: We’re sorry to say this is a US/Canada only contest. We can’t foot the international shipping at the moment.
“One young woman, who got in a heated argument with a men’s rights activist at a protest in Canada, was subsequently dubbed as “little red frothing fornication mouth” by AVFM and had all of her private contact information published by MRAs. She received hundreds of elaborate threats of violence. One anonymous commenter invited her to “enjoy being anally defiled.” Another gloated: “I would actually cum cutting that bitch’s throat.” Another outspoken feminist told me personally that she had to get the FBI and the state police involved when AVFM targeted her. Authorities found the threats she received so credible that they advised her to leave home for two weeks, taking her husband and young child with her. Increasingly, men’s rights activists target women offline as well. Last month, members of the organization Men’s Rights Edmonton hung large “wanted”-style posters of a professor all over the University of Alberta campus, calling her a bigot. Her crime? She was involved in the university’s anti-rape campaign.”—
Some examples of how “men’s rights activists” are threatening and intimidating feminists. There is absolutely no justification for this kind of behavior, and I urge all anti-feminist men (and anti-feminist others) to at the very least not stoop to the level of threatening atrocities or publishing someone’s personal information. I may not agree with your points of contention when it comes to the feminist movement, but that will never cause me to harm you or your family. AVFM and similar MRA groups need to be stopped, for the safety of society as a whole.
"You know as well as I do that a feeding tube is psychologically devastating; it takes away a man’s dignity." Miranda Bailey, Grey’s Anantomy
Why would a feeding tube be psychologically devastating? Well because it keeps people from enjoying one of life’s great pleasures: eating. It may cause social withdrawal and depression.
One of my SLP friends found this and thought it was perfect for this blog (she was right)
I’m sorry to possibly intrude into your blog. But it’s too important. I have to say this.
I actually love Grey’s Anatomy because it gives me a fairly realistic window into the views of medical professionals. And I know that this view on feeding tubes is by far the most common I’ve seen among medical professionals in my personal research on the topic. Which has been considerable.
But I have to tell you this because you are a future medical professional. And what I’m telling you may one day change someone’s life. Or save it.
People with feeding tubes (or “tubies” as we sometimes call ourselves) vary in how much we want our feeding tube and how we feel about it. Some love our tubes. Some hate our tubes. Those of us who get nasal tubes in urgent medical circumstances may find it uncomfortable or even traumatic. Some go through an extended grieving period over the loss of food, some never look back, and some have never eaten in our lives and actually resent the introduction of food once we no longer need our tubes. But most of us, especially those with long term tubes, very much prefer our tubes to the alternative. And most of us don’t see it as a horrible undignified nightmare that we will never wake up from, the way the combination of words and image make it sound.
My mother and I have both had feeding tubes. Mine is a permanent GJ tube, my mother’s was a temporary NG tube. Both of us turned out to be the kind of tubies who absolutely love our tubes, because they were so much more efficient and painless than eating was for us, and in my case because it has truly saved my life. Also the feeding tube doesn’t keep me from eating — gastroparesis does!
All feeding tubes can be reversed if the patient does not want them anymore. Yet I almost never got the chance to get my tube. And it was because my doctors in the hospital had absolutely the same sentiments expressed in the original quote and photograph.
I have gastroparesis and bronchiectasis. That means that my stomach is paralyzed and my lungs are prone to infections that they can’t clear. The gastroparesis caused stomach acid to build up in my stomach instead of draining into my intestines. I would wake up choking on bile, spend an hour coughing it out of my lungs, and then get aspiration pneumonia. I got pneumonia so often it was life threatening. I was on a liquid diet but I was losing a lot of weight because I couldn’t drink more than an Ensure or two in a day without throwing up.
The medical indication in that situation is a GJ tube. One part would carry food, water, and medication directly into my intestines. The other part would allow me to drain stomach fluids out of my stomach into a bag or cup so they wouldn’t go up into my lungs. (I also have dysphagia, the condition tagged in the OP, but not bad enough to need a tube, I just can’t swallow things like pills.)
I kept getting pneumonia and my lungs kept getting worse. And I was losing weight. I ended up in the hospital and they said I absolutely needed a tube or I would probably die soon from getting too many lung infections too close together.
They wouldn’t give me the tube.
They didn’t deny it outright. They couldn’t. They knew it would never stand up to any level of investigation, because I needed it. In fact they’d been talking about getting me a feeding tube ever since I first got diagnosed several months before. Everyone agreed it was medically necessary. They just didn’t want me to have it.
So every day, several times a day, a different doctor or resident would come into my room and try to talk me out of getting the tube. They knew that getting me to refuse it was the only legal way they could stop me getting it, so they did everything in their power to convince me.
They told me horror stories. They told me I would, as a cognitively disabled person, have trouble taking care of it. They told me how unpleasant it is not to be able to eat… as if I could eat in the first place, I was already on Ensure! (And a GJ tube does not interfere with eating.) They told me how unhappy I would be. They talked about “quality of life”, which is always a warning sign to me that someone is about to drown me in “better dead than disabled” pity. They told me over and over to consider other options. I steadfastly said I wanted the tube. It began to feel like harassment.
We asked them if I would likely for without the tube. They said yes. We asked if there were actual other options besides death. They said no. They said “…but still, consider other options.”
Whether it’s wheelchairs, feeding tubes, or respirators, the medical profession tends to see technology that improves and prolongs the lives of disabled people as some kind of tragedy. They see us often as victims of a fate worse than death. I’m a long time member of the disability rights movement so I knew what was up: medical professionals consistently estimate disabled people’s quality of life and happiness as much lower than disabled people describe it ourselves regardless of how severely disabled we are. I knew that the doctors firmly believed I would literally be better off dying than facing the “tragedy” and “indignity” of living with a feeding tube.
It was incredibly stressful to be sick with pneumonia, bone tired, and have someone come into my room every day and try yet another tactic to persuade me to die. My power of attorney for health-care said that she sometimes came home from visiting me and threw up from the stress. It took her months to recover and she was not even the sick one.
Eventually she started blogging on tumblr what was happening to me and I joined in. We got the disability community to call the hospital in large numbers to say they were watching what was happening to me. Suddenly, within a day, they stopped fighting me and said “you’ll get the tube in two days”. But one doctor still couldn’t resist visiting my room with a gaggle of med students in tow to ask me, “Are you at peace with your decision?” He said it so solemnly it sounded as if I’d chosen death, not life! When I said yes of course I am, he repeated the question a few times and left.
I got my feeding tube. I had some complications but I instantly loved it. I had been aspirating several times a week without it. I have only aspirated once in the six months since I got it. I love it so much. It is efficient in a way that eating is not, especially when you have to spend all day holding your meal down. I rarely think of food, but if I really want the experience of eating, I either go somewhere with wonderful cooking smells, or I chew or suck food and then spit it out. I thought I would miss food far more than I do. I have also developed the ability to accurately imagine the taste of nearly any food I can think up, and that’s almost as good as eating it.
Moreover, I’m alive! I don’t know how long I will live, because I could still aspirate if my drainage bag failed. But I could live a full lifespan this way if I’m lucky. And I’ve already lived longer than I would have without it.
The tube has not psychologically devastated me in the least bit. The hospital stay, on the other hand… I still have PTSD-like symptoms from lying there weak and exhausted and wondering if I’d be allowed to live. As for dignity, I feel more dignified this way than I do puking all the time.
Many people live with a feeding tube their entire life and never feel too bad about it. Other people may fear the idea and pity us but we don’t pity ourselves and hate our lives nearly as much as medical people seem to expect.
We don’t all like our tubes, and some of us have bad complications like pain and infections and skin breakdown. But very few of us who have tubes long term treat them with extreme regret or loathing. If we hated them that much we would ask our doctors to remove them. Even tubes like mine don’t have to be permanent, if I didn’t want it I could have it removed, the stoma would heal over, and I would let nature take its course (that’s a euphemism for a fairly unpleasant death from pneumonia, starvation, or dehydration).
But you don’t see tubies removing our tubes and dying in huge numbers. If they were the nightmarish loss of dignity the OP suggests, you would see it happen constantly.
What you do see, however, is situations like mine. Where the patient or our family is persuaded by the medical profession to view life with a tube as no real life at all. To not get a tube, to die before we could ever get a tube. In the eyes of many disabled people, me included, that’s little more than murder based on disability related prejudices. And it is a prejudice to assume that something that keeps us alive is an indignity, something to be avoided at all costs.
Not everyone who says that a feeding tube is undignified and horrible is thinking it through all the way. I doubt you have much idea what actually happens to real people based on that idea. But that idea is one short step away from viewing it as a fate worse than death. And when people with power over patients have such a strong prejudice against a life saving medical treatment… lives are lost rather than saved. People die. Needlessly.
If my doctors had won I wouldn’t be here right now. If my doctors hadn’t believed that feeding tubes made life not worth living, that they were undignified, that they were so unpleasant death would be better, I’d never have had the fight to begin with.
Something to remember, when you’re in a care taking position, whether a doctor, a nurse, a in-home provider, or anything else where you have control over someone else’s life, or the ability to apply unfair or undue pressure: YOU NEVER HAVE THE RIGHT TO PUT THE VALUE OF THEIR LIFE OVER CONFORMITY TO YOUR SENSE OF COMFORT. The doctors this individual dealt with judged the value of her life over what they themselves thought was comfortable. Respect people in all stages of physical, mental, and emotional wellness and don’t allow anyone to impose their comfort level on you.
Yes yes yes. One of my jobs used to be educating patients before they received GJ tubes prior to cancer treatment, to help them keep nourished should they have trouble eating following surgery. Some would go on to have trouble eating, some wouldn’t, but for those who did, the tube was invaluable and could make life so much easier.
I still had a long way to go, at that point in my life, learning about social model of disability, but somehow I just never saw it as a big deal or a source of shame or a Terrible Tragedy that people were getting tubes. It was there to help them if they needed it — it didn’t turn them into helpless, pitiful victims of fate, it was a technology that could help them stay alive through a rough time, and actually give them more control over their health and nutrition status. And their lives were valuable, certainly worth more than a tube, of all the silly things.
I had a patient come up to me sometime later, after he’d received his tube and had surgery for his cancer, when I was in the hospital cafe buying lunch. He shook my hand and told me that he remembered how confident I had helped him feel about getting his tube and how much he appreciated it. It blew my mind because I had no idea that I could have that kind of effect on someone, but I will always remember him and that feedback: that being matter-of-fact about a person’s needs, and not treating it like a huge moral issue or a terrible tragedy, can make a difference in how well they respond to their treatment. That is one of the reasons why I still love nutrition, despite all the other BS I’ve encountered in the field.
I was 13 years old when Marc Lépine opened fire and murdered 14 women for being at engineering school when he wasn’t. He blamed feminism for the situation he was in, and murdered these women for being in non-traditional jobs, for being there.
Every year, the memorials I go to are different. Some are quiet - I remember several winters in the snow, holding candles and reciting names like a talisman against violence.
Geneviève Bergeron, 21 years old. Hélène Colgan, 24 years old. Nathalie Croteau, 24 years old.
When I was younger, they seemed impossibly mature and sophisticated. I used to imagine them laughing and enjoying university, cut down without warning. Now that I’m 35, they seem so young, and I wonder if they were afraid.